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The start of kindergarten arrived and I wore my yarn beanie happily because the mess that had become my hair was hidden from view. Everything was fine until Physical Education class. The P.E. teacher was this mean and petty single woman Iâll call Miss B. Although it was cool outside, mean Miss B wanted me to remove my beanie. Iâd always been taught to be obedient and respect authority but I feared being teased about my fuzzy hair more than anything, so I told the teacher âNoâ when she asked to remove my hat.
Apparently that inflamed her miserable soul and she demanded I remove my beanie or go to the Principalâs office. Well being sent to the Principal terrified my 5 year old mind since I wasnât sure what horrible punishment awaited or what my parents would say about my disrespecting the teacherâs authority once the Principal called them.
I slowly removed the beanie from my head. When evil Miss B saw my hair, which was now flattened into a brown mass but quickly springing back into cotton ball shape, she said âYou can put your beanie back on.â âEvil, witch,â I thought, âItâs too late now people have seen my awful haircutâ.
My classmates were giggling and pointing and the teasing began. After that fiasco I still wore pretty beanies but eventually gave up when the beanies stopped fitting over my mass of hair and let my fuzzy hair dance around my head like a brown dandelion until eventually it grew long enough to put back into staid braids. Â By first grade my braids were back but the trials of a fuzzy haired life had only just begun.